


Something We Can't Hide

by 707



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Sex Flower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-25 21:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6210235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/707/pseuds/707
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"“Yes, Commander.” To his credit, his voice does not stammer, but Clarke is too far gone to even have noticed if he had. Her eyes are zoned in on Lexa’s flushed cheeks, her strong jawline. What Clarke would have given to lick her way up that line and see if it cut her tongue like she thought it would. Her body is thrumming with energy and her fingers twitch at her sides wanting to surge forwards, slam Lexa into the nearest tree, and kiss the fuck out of her."</p><p>aka</p><p>Clarke and Lexa have an encounter with the... Sex Flower™.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clarke stretches her arms above her head, flexing the sore muscles on her back. They had been riding for the entire day and her body is aching. Below her, the horse (“Naz,” a stall boy had corrected her with a glare) ambles along, each of its jolts sending a tremor of pain through her body. Before her, Lexa’s guards march silently and the commander herself shows no sign of discomfort, posture as regal and impeccable as it was the day before. 

 

The day is coming to a close and the sun hangs lazily in the sky. The tents of their camp can be seen in the distance still miles away and Clarke wonders vaguely what they are serving for supper. Probably more rabbit stew. The way the Grounders make it is absolutely mouthwatering and her stomach growls loudly.

 

On her left, she sees Lexa glancing over, a trace of a smile on her face. “Thinking about home?”

 

Clarke glares at her, but the corners of her mouth are already turning upwards. “Only about the stew that’s waiting for me. We still have a while to go.”

 

Lexa’s smile widens when she doesn’t correct her about their camp being home, and Clarke has to turn away, her own answering smile hidden in the collar of her blue jacket. 

 

“I’ll have Eilen make you extra.” Lexa announces. 

 

The sudden surge of affection towards the stoic Commander is cut short as the horse takes a particularly large step and jostles Clarke unnecessarily. She groans as her back sears painfully and Lexa orders their party to stop. 

 

Grumbling lowly, the guards cast longing glances towards camp, this being their third stop in the last hour. The woods are thinning and more of the tents can be seen through the branches. It can’t have been more than a twenty minute walk.

 

“Go.” Lexa states with a wave of her hand, swinging off her horse. It is obvious that the guards were eager to get home and they're close enough to camp so that Lexa feels confident in their safety. After a moment’s hesitation (“Heda?” “I will be safe. This is an order.”), they nod in gratitude and step away. 

 

Clarke swings off her horse and stretches, letting out a small sound of contentment when her muscles flex deliciously. She turns toward Lexa. 

 

“Sorry, I’m still getting used to traveling by horse,” she says apologetically. 

 

Lexa nods. “You will learn with time.” 

 

They stand in a comfortable silence, Lexa tending to her horse and Clarke sneaking glances at her every few moments. It had taken Clarke a while to begin trusting her again and even so, she was still not completely comfortable in her presence. But after the battle with Roan and Pike’s takeover of Arkadia, they had naturally drifted closer, and Clarke finds that awfully amusing in the ironic, skeptical way. _No matter what she does, you'll always be close... intimate maybe._ One of the many aspects of their leadership that Clarke is still unsure whether to label as a benefit or drawback. 

 

They're camped only a day’s ride from Arkadia waiting for Octavia to bring back news on Pike’s movements, but so far there's nothing new, and the new-found time has only given Clarke more time to reevaluate her situation. 

 

She sits down on a nearby tree trunk and flexes her burning legs, eyes scanning her surroundings aimlessly. One thing she would never get tired of on the ground is scenery. Every object is more defined, richer, and just more _real._ It's hard to keep her eyes in one place when there are so many different objects that are begging to be inspected, and Clarke finds herself constantly mesmerized by the sights before her. 

 

When Lexa finishes tending to her horse, she ties its rope loosely around a thick tree trunk. Clarke watches her spin around gracefully and walk towards her, coming to a stop a few feet away. She sees the slight shift as her body relaxes in the way that it does only when they are alone and her eyes soften so that the shadows cast by her eyelashes give them more depth than the cold, hard glare that she sports during war meetings. The change stirs something deep in her bones and her stomach tightens. Rising slowly, she shifts closer and Lexa’s gaze carefully follows her movements until they are standing face to face. 

 

Two leaders, one known for her ruthlessness and the other known for the trail of death left in her wake. But against the dark shadows of the trees and the fading light, the rays reveal two girls, far too young to be bound to their duty. The were supposed to be free, reckless, but fate was not often fair. Something heavy lodges itself in Clarke’s throat as the light behind Lexa makes her look like she’s glowing, and for the second time this day, she feels overwhelmed by Lexa.

 

Unlike the Commander, Clarke was never truly alone. There was Bellamy, Octavia, Raven, her mother. Even during her time away from Arkadia, she had Niylah. Lexa had no one but herself. Relied on no one but herself. And Clarke's heart aches when she realizes for the first time the short months that she's known her, how lonely her life must be.

 

Yet they were similar, Clarke knows that for sure. Although she was surrounded by capable individuals, none of them truly understood the decisions that she had to make the way that Lexa did. They could pick up their bags and leave, while she could not, and while Lexa could not either. They are the same in many ways. And standing before Lexa now, all she can think is  _Lexa, Lexa, Lexa._

 

Something must have shifted in her gaze because Lexa looks away, clearing her throat. “It’s getting late. We should be heading back.”

 

Her words hold no significance and Clarke does not fail to notice how she makes no move in the direction of the camp.

 

“We should.” She agrees softly. Again, no movements are made. 

 

They stand there for a good amount of time, just looking at each other expectantly, neither willing to make the first move and risk whatever good relationship that they were having right now. She feels like this moment should be special, _is_ special, and maybe she should be doing something about it, but before she can decide, a bright splash of red in the background catches her eye. Taking a step closer for a better look, she realizes that it's a flower, and a beautiful one at that. Clarke’s eyebrows furrow and she wordlessly moves past Lexa.

 

She has never seen anything like it. The petals are such a bright shade of red that it appears to be pulsing against the grey and green background. Slender yellow anthers extend from the folds of its petals and there is something oddly mysterious yet alluring about the plant, almost as if it is inviting her to take a closer look. 

 

“Clarke?” Lexa questions as she turns abruptly. 

 

Lexa sounds concerned, but Clarke finds that she can’t bring herself to look away. She is vaguely aware that Lexa is saying something again as she crouches down in front of it, but she is completely and utterly mesmerized by the specimen before her. It looks so beautiful. So soft. The petals seem to be reaching out to her. Almost entirely in a daze, she reaches out her hand tentatively. 

 

But just as the tip of her index finger strokes the red petal, a weight slams into her body, knocking her to the side as the flower spurts a yellow cloud of pollen into the air. She lands on her back with Lexa crouching on top of her, strong arms encasing her protectively. The air smells sickeningly sweet and when she looks up at Lexa, she sees that the entire right side of her face is covered in yellow powder.

 

"What-" Clarke reaches up to wipe it off, but Lexa immediately swats her hand away and withdraws. She's panting heavily and her eyes are swirling with— is that fear?

 

Clarke opens her mouth, but Lexa cuts her off. “Get up.” She is pacing away from her frantically and reaching for the reins of their horses.

 

When Clarke makes no attempt to move, Lexa repeats her statement louder, almost begging her. “Clarke, _please_. Get up, we need to move _now._ ” 

 

Never has she seen Lexa so off balance, panicked. Throughout the many days of battle plans, war meetings, executions, even when the bomb dropped on Tondc, Lexa had never faltered. But resonating through the forest, Lexa’s voice is dripping with anxiety and Clarke jolts into action. She scrambles up immediately.

 

“Wait, what’s going on?”

 

Lexa ignores her, working at the knot on the tree with nimble fingers. When the ropes come loose she practically wrenches them away from the tree and shoves the reins towards Clarke before pacing away to work at the other knot. 

 

“Lexa.” Clarke follows her, arm grabbing at her elbow. She shrugs out of her grip.

 

“Clarke, there’s no time. Get on your horse.” Her voice is strained and soon the second set of ropes fall from the tree. Clarke wordlessly complies, confusion abating under the obvious importance of their haste. 

 

She has barely settled into the saddle before Lexa is urging her horse forwards. Looking back at her, Lexa’s green eyes gleam strangely in the limited light. Clarke spurs her horse on and together they speed towards camp. 

 

The first thought that comes into her mind as they move is: _this is way too fast._ The trees are flying by at such a speed that they are blurring into the background and the passing air whips harshly at her face. The second thought is _what the hell_ as Lexa tosses her a cloth. When Clarke looks back at her confused, Lexa raises a matching cloth to her face and begins carefully wiping off the dust.

 

“You need to get it off.” Lexa clarifies, voice barely reaching her at the speed they were going.

 

“What is it?” Clarke yells, wiping the small splotch that has managed to hit her cheek before Lexa intervened. 

 

Lexa doesn't answer, but rather urges her horse to go faster with a small _hyah._

 

Clarke follows suit. “Lexa, tell me! Is it poison?” She's becoming frantic, her mind automatically assuming the worst— if they didn’t get to the camp soon, they would die. Maybe that’s what got the Commander so worried.

 

“No.” Lexa calls back, and in a smaller voice that Clarke barely hears she adds, “It’s worse.”

 

Her words cause Clarke’s eyebrows to skyrocket. She has so many questions, but she has a feeling that Lexa is not about to answer any of them so she bites her lip and they ride on in silence. It’s only after a minute before Clarke can’t take it anymore.

 

“Lexa, wh-”

 

Then it happens all at once, and if you'd asked her afterwards, Clarke would still be overwhelmed at how fast it had all happened.

 

Lexa gasps and her spine goes rigid and Clarke’s eyes widen in alarm. "Lexa!"

 

The Commander’s face flushes and her mouth drops open, eyes turning glassy as they stare off into the distance.

 

“What is it!?” They were still going too fast for Clarke to reach out a hand to touch her and Clarke’s mind goes into an overdrive. “Lexa!”

 

Beside her, all Lexa can do is gasp again. Her fingers are clutching the reins so hard they're turning white. She opens and closes her mouth several times, but not a sound escapes.

 

“You’ll feel it,” is all she manages to choke out. "Wait."

 

“What?” Clarke hisses. She is beyond confused, incredibly worried, and borderline angry. “Are you hurting? Where? We need to stop and let me check it out.”

 

Lexa shakes her head wildly, squirming on her seat. “No, no, it’s-” She gasps and squeezes her eyes shut. Lexa’s jaw clenches as she hunches over and tries again, “It’s too late. We need to get back.” 

 

It isn’t until Lexa groans long and loud as she promises that Clarke will feel “it” in a moment that Clarke leans back in her saddle, baffled. The sound had sent a shiver down her spine.

 

“What do you mean in a minute?” She demands, practically hissing in frustration. "Lexa, I need to-"

 

And the feeling hist her all at once, sucking the rest of her sentence into oblivion. Everything is suddenly too hot, like the world went to shit in the second that it took her to blink and now the fires of hell are flickering around her body. Her skin is tingling, hypersensitive, every hair on her body standing up. Heat burst through her stomach like a raging fire and her toes curl in her boots, fingers gripping frantically at the saddle before her. But most noticeably, her clit begins a low, insistent pulse from beneath her thin underwear, and it's more swollen than it had ever felt in her entire life. She gasps and desperately tries to lift her hips off the rough fabric of the saddle, but the road was bumpy and each jolt sent a tremor of pleasure through her body. And _o_ _h god._ It's bad. The pleasure is so fierce that within seconds, she is already feeling herself nearing her climax.

 

“Lexa.” She gasps. Wrong move. When she swivels her gaze over, the Commander is already staring at her, pupils blown, mouth hanging open, an absolutely sinful look in her eyes. Two seconds is all it takes before Clarke is tumbling over the edge, hips jerking as she convulses repeatedly, gasping and writhing on the saddle. The orgasm takes her by surprise and she stares at Lexa with wide eyes, and her mind is a haze. Before she can comprehend what's going on, the rhythmic jolts are working her close again. 

 

“I can’t…” Clarke gasps out, gripping the horse hard. “I can’t do this.” 

 

She doesn’t elaborate, yet Lexa seems to know what she is talking about anyways. Maybe it’s because she isn’t doing so well herself either. 

 

“Stay on. We only have a few more minutes.” Lexa orders her. The command, growled out between clenched teeth, sends more chills down her spine and she groans and leans forward, pressing her forehead to the saddle. Squeezing her eyes shut, she attempts to block out the sensations and think of something, _anything_ else. 

 

It doesn’t work. The fire in veins only intensifies when she hears a small whimper fall from the Commander’s mouth. She snaps her gaze up and Lexa is standing on the stirrup, chest heaving, and muscles rippling. Her eyes are glassy, but staring ahead determinedly. Lexa lets out another sound as her horse hits a particularly bumpy area and Clarke’s clit throbs harder in response. She tries desperately to clench her thighs shut, but the width of the horse prevents her. When she comes for the second time, all she can do is sit there with legs forced open and take it as waves and waves of pleasure wash through her. This time though, she is more prepared and is able to stop her hips from canting forwards. It's embarrassing enough to be coming twice in less than a minute, but with Lexa riding besides her, just as turned on… well, Clarke isn’t sure how to feel about that actually. 

 

 _The damn flower, s_ he curses as they speed along. She thinks back on Lexa’s words. _It’s worse._ Damn right. If she didn’t get off this horse right now, she's sure that she will be coming again in a few minutes. 

 

Luckily, the gods have mercy (even though they technically did curse her with the curiosity that got her into this situation in the first place) because somewhere between gasps and groans, Clarke notices that the trees have thinned out. _We must be close._

 

As they slow to a stop in front of the makeshift walls, Lexa’s guards stroll over to greet them and take their horses. 

 

“Heda.” They murmur.

 

Lexa only nods in return. (Maybe that’s all she’s capable of at the moment.)

 

Clarke swings down after Lexa does and stumbles upon the impact. One of the guards reach over to steady her and as soon as his hand closes around her elbow, Clarke feels a spike of pleasure shoot through her body at the contact and she has to bite her lip to stop herself from groaning out loud. Her mind is a muddle mess of want and all she can think of right now is how she needs contact, craves it. Her eyes follow the arm up to meet the eyes of its owner. Staring back at her oddly was a boy not much older than herself. He has dark hair and light eyes, a combination that Clarke thinks is extremely attractive, but maybe it's just the pollen that makes everything seem more pleasurable. Yeah, that must be it, the Pleasure Pollen, she decides absentmindedly. 

 

She must have zoned out for a while because when Lexa suddenly appears to her right, she almost jumps out of her skin. One look at her and Clarke can tell she’s furious and damn, is it attractive. Lexa’s eyes flash dangerously in the torchlight and the boy hastily withdraws his hand with a gulp.

 

“Step back.” Lexa growls and the boy backpedals frantically. Clarke’s mouth dries up at her tone and god. Never before has she felt this attracted to someone. Lexa exudes power and confidence though their close proximity allows Clarke to see the little tremors in her hands clasped firmly behind her back as if to stop them from darting forward and touching the closest warm body. Lexa licks her lips and Clarke sees it in slow motion, the tender pink of the tongue and as her eyes trace over Lexa’s face, she is struck with the thought that maybe it's _this_ combination of dark hair and light eyes that she had been yearning for all along. When Lexa’s eyes narrow at the boy, her heart rate speeds up significantly. Her arousal is probably already soaking through the her pants by now. 

 

“Yes, Commander.” To his credit, his voice does not stammer, but Clarke is too far gone to even have noticed if he had. Her eyes are zoned in on Lexa’s flushed cheeks, her strong jawline. What Clarke would have given to lick her way up that line and see if it cut her tongue like she thought it would. Her body is thrumming with energy and her fingers twitch at her sides wanting to surge forwards, slam Lexa into the nearest tree, and kiss the fuck out of her.

 

As if she could read her thoughts, Lexa turns towards her and their eyes meet. There's enough heat in their gazes to create sparks and Clarke’s gaze flickers to the movement in Lexa’s throat as it bobs. 

 

When she recalls the night again, there is a huge spot that’s blank. Or, not quite blank, but filled with only Lexa, Lexa, Lexa as they march through the camp. Clarke is barely aware of their surroundings, stumbling along. There are guards surrounding them, but her eyes are solely trained on the brunette walking in front of her. It is only when the world dims around her does she avert her eyes from the bead of sweat sliding down Lexa’s neck. They had entered a tent. _Lexa’s tent,_ she thinks idly and another flush of heat shoots through her body. 

 

Lexa swivels around on the guards that entered with them. “Leave us.” 

 

“Commander,” one protests, “your advisors would like to see you about the territorial dispute on the South border, and we have yet to address the food issue that Polis is under now that we prioritize our war force.”

 

Clarke can tell by the way that Lexa’s jaw clenches that this is not going to end pretty. 

 

“Tell them I will deal with it tomorrow morning.” She says curtly.

 

“But-”

 

“Are you questioning my choices, Cyrus?” 

 

Clarke is acutely aware of the way Lexa’s breathing has picked up and how she widens her stance just a fraction.

 

“No, of course not.” The man backtracks rapidly. “But-”

 

“Good. Then I will see you all in the morning.”

 

Lexa’s voice is strained, but none of the men seem to notice. Clarke doesn’t know how Lexa is still speaking in entire sentences, let alone eloquently addressing her guards when she herself is shifting around the tent restlessly, trying to stop herself from shoving a hand down the front of her pants and relieving herself from this torture. She sneaks another look at Lexa and takes in how her shoulders are taut, arms stiffly clenched at her sides. So maybe she isn’t so unaffected after all.

 

The sun has already set when the rest of the guards open the tent flap, the movements leaving it swishing in the night. Lexa’s impatience finally shows when she moves to clasp her hands tightly behind her as the last guard lingers in the doorway, looking back. Her fingers rub against each other restlessly and the movements are driving Clarke crazy. She reaches a hand out to stop her. As soon as it comes to rest on Lexa’s forearm, that’s when she knows. Lexa’s hips jerk forward almost instantaneously and she fucking _mewls_. Clarke snatches her hand back like she’s been burned and clenches her eyes shut. The sound echoes through her head and sends a hot lance of arousal through her body. The guard’s gaze flickers between them uneasily.

 

“Commander-”

 

She sees Lexa swallow. The powerful muscles in her neck rippling as the Commander tries to get herself together. “Get out. Of this tent. Or I will make sure that you will never live to see another one.”

 

The guard trembles as he leaves.

 

As soon as the tent flap closes, Lexa stumbles across the room, desperately trying to put distance between them. She bumps into the table in her haste and Clarke thinks she has never seen the Commander this clumsy. Lexa is breathing heavily now that their audience is gone and Clarke’s gaze zones in on the soft pink of her tongue that darts out to wet her bottom lip. A low groan rumbles softly deep in her throat before she can think to stop it and Lexa’s eyes flutter at the sound. Four large steps is all that it takes for Clarke to cross the room swiftly and come to a stop an arms length away from the Commander. 

 

Lust is clouding her mind and while she knows that she shouldn’t, the desire is overpowering and she tentatively reaches out to touch her. Lexa’s breath hitches.

 

“Clarke.” It comes out as a strained garble. Clarke presses closer until she can feel the heat radiating from Lexa’s body. Her thumb traces along the tendons in Lexa’s neck pulled taut due to their close proximity. She feels flashes of heat pulse through her body from her core as firm muscles ripple underneath her fingertips. Clarke traces lower and lower until her fingers brush gently over Lexa’s collarbones and the Commander’s breath catches. 

 

“Clarke.” When she looks up, Lexa’s eyes are completely black. Her hands are balled and firmly pressed to her sides. Clarke wants to move her own hand, but Lexa’s body is so tense that she’s afraid that she’ll snap if she does.

 

“Lexa.” She breathes out instead. Right now, all she can think about is throwing Lexa onto the bed and burying her face between her legs and she sincerely hopes Lexa feels the same way. At the rate in which her self control is leaving her body, it would be unbearable if Lexa felt any different. 

 

“You should leave.”

 

The words slam into Clarke’s mind and they’re enough to cut through her haze, if only briefly. Clarke’s heart plummets. Maybe they didn’t want the same things after all. Who is she kidding? This is Lexa. Head over heart, love is weakness Lexa. The same Lexa that left her and her people to die. They couldn’t possibly want the same things. 

 

Her hand drops and she’s about to move away when Lexa continues. 

 

“Because if you don’t…” She chokes. “I can’t- This-”

 

Clarke stops moving. A small, unidentified emotion flickers in her chest and her eyes drop down to Lexa’s lips. “You what Lexa?”

 

Lexa swallows thickly.

 

“I won’t be able to stop,” she whispers and it’s the closest thing to a beg that Clarke has ever heard from her. 

 

Maybe it’s the candle heat or just the adrenaline running through her body, but Clarke doesn’t even try to resist it when the urge to touch, to _consume_ reemerges. She surges forwards and slams their mouths together, hand reaching up to fist in Lexa’s hair. They’re kissing and Clarke doesn’t care that the tent flap is a flimsy old thing, that anyone can walk in on them, that they’re going to war in just a few days, or that Lexa and her… they were never supposed to be allowed this. Never supposed to be together. All she feels is her head spinning wildly and the girl that’s pressing her soft lips firmly back against hers. 

 

Lexa’s arms encircle her and her hands come around to press against the small of her back, drawing her in closer. It’s desperate and messy and Clarke laps into Lexa’s mouth greedily. The Commander’s hands are shaking as they run down her body and slip under the thin fabric of her shirt. Her touch sets Clarke’s skin on fire and she moans into the kiss. 

 

“Fuck me, Lexa.” She whispers against her lips. "I'm yours."

 

Lexa’s hips jerk violently into hers and she feels more than hears Lexa growl as she spins them around roughly, pushing her back until her knees hit the bed. They tumble onto it gracelessly and Clarke grabs at Lexa’s clothing. Unsteady hands worked away at the knots and buckles that hold the pieces together. She can’t decide what’s worse, breaking their kiss to take off Lexa’s intensely frustrating clothing or not being able to feel their skin pressed together. It doesn’t take her long to decide and Lexa loses her shirt first. 

 

Clarke has to take a moment to tear her eyes away from the newly revealed areas of tan skin before focusing on the the binding at Lexa’s chest. She reaches up and tugs. Lexa hisses as the fabric comes loose and Clarke palms her breast roughly, finger coming together to pinch lightly at her nipples. Their lips reconnect and before long she needs more. Lexa seems to be on the same page as she wastes no time stripping her of her clothing, slim fingers hooking underneath her pants and taking off her panties all in one motion. 

 

As soon as the warm air hits her glistening core, Clarke lets out a loud moan. 

 

“Shh.” Lexa shushes her, coming to rest between her legs. “My guards are outside.”

 

Clarke squirms restlessly. “Then come here and shut me up,” she demands. 

 

Her hand comes up to cup the back of Lexa’s neck and drag her back down. Their lips meet just as Lexa’s fingers reach down to touch her and Clarke gasps. Lexa slips in two fingers effortlessly due to her embarrassing wetness and thrusts hard. 

 

“Oh,” is all she can say as Lexa picks up a relentless pace. “Oh, oh, oh.”

 

Maybe it’s because everything feels infinitely more sensitive due to the flower pollen, but it doesn’t take long for Clarke’s legs to begin shaking from where they were wrapped firmly around Lexa’s waist. Her fingers twist around the furs on Lexa’s bed as a particularly well-aimed curl makes her head spin wildly. She has a feeling that this isn’t entirely because of the flower because Lexa’s fingers are long and skillful as they play between her folds and she is _so_ good at this. 

 

Lexa was currently sucking and biting at a particularly sensitive portion of her neck and Clarke feels herself involuntarily clench around her fingers. She’s close. 

 

“Lexa,” she warns. Lexa only speeds up, thumb pressing down on Clarke’s swollen clit. Clarke gasps and her hips cant upwards off the bed only to be slammed back down by Lexa who releases a growl, fingers never stopping their movements. When she adds another finger and stretches her deliciously, it’s over.

 

“ _Shiiit_.” Her hips spasm and rocket forwards, trapping Lexa’s fingers inside of her. Clarke’s legs clamp tightly around her torso as her hips buck wildly. Lexa is still rubbing her clit but instead of becoming oversensitive, she feels herself getting alarmingly closer to another orgasm. Her eyes widen and lock onto green ones in front of her. “Wait, wait, I-”

 

Her hand shoots down the wrap around Lexa’s wrist trying to get her to stop, but it's too late. She feels herself tumbling over the edge again so halfway in the process of pulling them out, she slams Lexa’s fingers forward and drives them deep into her as she lets out another long moan. Lexa returns one into her ear and her hot breaths fan across Clarke’s neck.

 

It takes a full two minutes before Clarke’s hips stop canting and Lexa’s fingers have stopped moving long ago (“Don’t you fucking dare!” Clarke groans as Lexa starts to rub her clit again.). Lexa pulls out and brings the wet digits to her mouth, sucking them clean.

 

“That was… very hot.” She says and all Clarke can do is follow her movements with her mouth hanging open.

 

She moves in a flurry, slamming Lexa onto the bed and fingers frantically trying to undo the belt buckle at her hips. It doesn’t seem to budge. Normally, she would find herself laughing at the situation, but her body is beginning to restart again and the throbbing between her legs is getting stronger with every pulse. Lexa is also breathing heavily and gazing at her with half lidded eyes. When the belt finally comes loose, Clarke tugs Lexa’s pants violently off her legs and flings them across the room, not caring where they landed. Her attention is already focused elsewhere. Like on the fact that Lexa doesn't wear underwear. 

 

 _Fuck._ She thinks back to the war meetings where they sat just a couple feet apart and all the times she was invited into the Commander’s tent. Was she not wearing underwear then too?

 

“What the hell, Lexa.” She groans as her head dips to kiss between Lexa’s protruding hipbones.

 

Lexa moans and her hands fist in her hair, trying to tug Clarke in the direction she wanted her. 

 

“Please, Clarke,” Lexa hisses as Clarke’s fingers come up to play with the little tuft of her between her legs.

 

“Mmm…” She smiles as she continues to leave open mouthed kisses across Lexa’s pelvis. The other girl is impatiently moving her hips. “Please what, Lex?”

 

Lexa whines and clamps her mouth shut, face flushing in the candlelight. Clarke raises her eyebrows and dips her head again to blow lightly at her center. She can tell that it’s driving her crazy.

 

“Touch me.” Lexa grits out, slamming her hand onto bed. This time it’s not a plea and Clarke’s fingers obediently brush through her folds. Lexa responds immediately under her touch, gasping and pushing her hips upwards. Clarke slips her fingers into her folds and curls them upwards, massaging a particularly sensitive portion that causes Lexa to slam her head back in a guttural moan and tug roughly on her hair. 

 

“Your guards are outside,” Clarke murmurs cheekily, fingers pumping in and out fast “remember?” 

 

She punctuates the word with a particularly hard thrust that has Lexa clenching her jaw to keep quiet. Clarke feels herself getting wet as she watches her fingers disappearing into Lexa and she bites her lip. Dipping her head down, she swipes across Lexa’s clit with her tongue and a loud whimper escapes the girl underneath her before she is able to stop it. 

 

“You taste good.” She tells her, smirking when all Lexa can do is close her eyes and gasp. 

 

“Oh shit.” Lexa whimpers. “Oh _shit._ ” She moves forwards so that her center messily scrapes across Clarke’s chin. Clarke hums and draws her clit inside of her mouth. One hand rests firmly on Lexa’s hip to stop her from moving. It’s rough and it’s fast and before long Lexa is arching off the bed, mumbling incoherently as she comes. 

 

Clarke climbs over Lexa and presses their lips together. The kiss is sloppy and wet and more than enough to send another shiver of anticipation down her spine. She grinds her hips down on Lexa’s and they both gasp. Lexa looks up at her with pupils blown, hands coming to rest on her hips. 

 

“Again?”

 

“Again.”

 

//

 

Her legs are shaking as Lexa slams her against the planning table, scrolls and maps falling to the floor with a bang, hastily pushed aside to make way for their eager bodies. 

 

When she comes for the fourth time, she knows what Lexa means by “it’s impossible to stop.” Their bodies were sweaty, chests rising and falling rapidly, yet she is still left wanting, craving contact from the brunette lying next to her. 

 

When Lexa rolls over to kiss her, mouth warm and desperate against hers, she knows what Lexa means by “love is weakness.” She gasps as Lexa’s tongue traces over her. When she looks down her body to see Lexa gazing up at her between her own spread legs, Clarke knows that she would give anything and everything to be with this woman.

 

When she comes for the seventh time it’s the most explosive one she has ever experienced and she comes sitting on Lexa’s face as the Commander kisses her clit over and over again until she is trembling with pleasure.

 

“Holy shit.” She gasps after the last spasm left her body. “When will this wear off?” 

 

Lexa only laughs against her skin. “We’ve still got a long time, Clarke.”

 

 

//

 

 

“I didn’t know you knew how to swear.” Clarke murmurs, smiling. She traces her fingers down Lexa’s stomach and Lexa blushes.

 

“To be honest, I haven’t since my initiation day.” 

 

The pollen is finally leaving their systems and they are both calm enough to press against each other without needing to fuck each other’s brains out. Clarke’s head is tucked comfortably under Lexa’s chin and Lexa’s arm wraps snuggly around her waist. At the moment, a familiar surge of affection washes through Clarke, stronger than ones before. Body relaxed, sleepy due to their previous activities, she can’t keep it in any longer.

 

“I love you.” She blurts out and Lexa tenses.

 

Clarke automatically closes her eyes and cringes at the silence. It’s a long one and Clarke’s heart squeezes. She’s beginning to roll away when two strong arms wrap back around her waist and drag her back. When she raises her eyes, Lexa is staring at her with her mouth parted in awe. She wonders if it would be inappropriate to kiss her right now.

 

“You do?” Lexa whispers, pressing their foreheads together. Clarke swallows and nods. 

 

“When you where on the ground during the fight with Roan, I… I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn't look away. Like I was stuck, and I-I-"

 

Lexa shushes her gently, placing soft kisses against her forehead and tracing gently along her hipbones.

 

"It’s like there’s this piece of me that was just... gone.” Clarke mumbles, reaching down to grab Lexa’s hand and intertwining their fingers. “Because I couldn't possibly bear to lose you.”

 

It’s cheesy, but it’s the truth. She isn’t stupid. What she had felt at the arena was something that transcended all emotions in this realm. Maybe the circumstances didn’t allow them to be together, but Clarke can’t help but feel that they are meant to be. Fated to lie on this very bed, at this very moment, tangled in each other and _in love._ When she looks up again, green eyes are shining and she knows. Lexa nudges forward to kiss her and she knows, flips them over gently and she knows. 

 

When they make love for the last time that night, she feels complete.


	2. Chapter 2

“Get the fuck out, are you serious?” Octavia cries not too subtly. “You guys were fucking the whole time I was putting my neck out on the line, balls deep in cold river water, trying to _save our people_? You’re unbelievable.” 

 

She crushes a twig between her fingers and hurls it in the opposite direction.

 

“Shhh.” Clarke hisses, swinging around frantically to see if anyone had heard her. “Keep your voice down.”

 

“Like hell I will.” Octavia grumbles. “It doesn’t even matter, your neck looks absolutely _ravaged._ God damn, looks like somebody tried to choke you or something.”

 

Clarke’s hands fly up to cup her neck even though she knew it was no use. The marks covered nearly all of the exposed skin on her neck; there's probably more purple and blue blotches than regular skin color. In the morning, she had taken one glance at the broken mirror shard on Lexa's counter before spinning around furiously. But her growl died in her throat at the sight of Lexa, naked and sprawled out on top of the furs, bearing her own marks. She looked just as bad if not worse with the additional scratch marks covering her shoulders. The sight started a low throb between her legs and she had licked her way down Lexa's body, angry words forgotten under her newly found determination. 

 

Octavia was never supposed to know who, but the warrior had cornered her and threatened to bring up her escapades to her mother. Clarke’s face had paled. That would not have been a pleasant conversation.

 

“So tell me,” Octavia smirked, “was she any good?”

 

Clarke’s face flushes red. She ducks her head quickly and doesn't reply. 

 

“Well obviously she was, based on your uh…” She gestures vaguely to her neck again and Clarke glares at her. Octavia only returns it with a full-blown grin. Clarke can’t blame her. It's a shitty world and good gossip rarely ever exists unless it was related in some way, shape, or form to death. 

 

So she thinks it's totally understandable... until Octavia asks: “So how many times did she make you cum?” and her ears go red all over again.

 

“Octavia, shut up!”

 

“Let me guess, four times.”

 

Clarke groans and shakes her head. “I’m not playing this game with you.”

 

“Higher? Like… six tops.” She snorts.

 

Another shake of the head. Octavia raises an eyebrow.

 

“What is it? Eight? Nine?”

 

She really shouldn't be saying this but--

 

“Twelve.” Clarke whispers, and it’s half muffled by her own hands. 

 

Octavia’s mouth drops open. “What the fuck?” She whispers. “Twelve!? How did you even-”

 

“I told you it was the damn flower.”

 

“The damn…” Octavia splutters incredulously. “I’m going to get me and Lincoln one of those after we slaughter Pike and his goonies today. Mark my words.”

 

It's a joke. It's supposed to be funny. She should be laughing, but she's not. Clarke’s stomach drops instead. _Today._ They were going to attack Arkadia. And despite multiple protests and excessive begging, there was no choice. Pike had ordered an attack on their very camp earlier this morning and Lexa’s orders were to take out all that resisted, but Clarke was sure that as soon as the fighting started, it would be very hard to tell who was on which side. 

 

“Hey.” Octavia’s voice snaps her gaze back up. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got the element of surprise. As long as we can get to close range combat, it’s done, and our archers will be ready this time. It won’t be another massacre.”

 

Clarke nods and swallows thickly. “Yeah, I know.”

 

Octavia nods and looks away. They're comfortable in the silence and Clarke feels a pang in her chest when she remembers that this is how it once was. Octavia, Monty, Bellamy, Jasper... Finn, sitting around a campfire and _trusting_ each other. Clarke wonders where they had gone wrong, how they had managed to turn on one another and start getting each other killed. But this world is messed up and Clarke knows that they have been doing well enough compared to some of the other people, and the other monstrosities that warfare brings out. Octavia's gaze is fixed past her and whatever she sees causes her back to straighten immediately. Clarke doesn’t have time to ask before a clear voice penetrates through the air.

 

“Clarke.”

 

She spins around so fast that she almost tumbles off the log she's sitting on. Octavia snickers behind her. Lexa stands regally just a couple of feet away flanked by guards on either side and her Commander mask on full fledge. Her posture sends jolts of heat south and she tries not to think about it because she's already _aching_. Instead, she ducks her head down and tries not to smirk at the red fabric wrapped around Lexa's neck. 

 

“When you are done with your conversation,” her eyes rake over Octavia’s sitting form, “meet me in my tent. I have important matters I would like to discuss with you.”

 

Clarke nods and her body thrums with anticipation. Once Lexa disappears into her tent, she turns back to Octavia.

 

"Important matters, huh?" Octavia wiggles her eyebrows at her and Clarke rolls her eyes, smile already spreading across her face. Her knee bobs up and down as they sit in a tense silence for a couple of seconds until Octavia rolls her eyes and says, “Go.”

 

Clarke offers a sheepish smile and a small, “thanks” before jumping up and rushing towards Lexa's tent. 

 

"You have to tell me more about this flower later though!" Octavia yells after her.

 

She's still grinning when she pushes into the tent, and as soon as the flap closes, she realizes two things:

 

1) that the tent is a mess

 

and 2) Lexa is alone. 

 

“Should we um… clean this?” She gestures embarrassedly at the maze of fallen items. Everything, and she means _everything_ , is knocked over and strewn haphazardly around the tent. They literally had sex on every single spot in the tent and Clarke feels her face heat up at the memories. 

 

Lexa, however, shows no signs of embarrassment as her gaze bores into Clarke. “No. My guards will have to move everything anyways.”

 

She takes a step closer to her and Clarke automatically feels the pull. It's magnetic, like they're drawn to each other by some unknown force. Clarke takes a moment to realize that it has always been like this and always will.  _She's the one._

 

“We go to war today.” Lexa continues, breaking her out of her thoughts. Clarke nods. “Will you go against your own people?”

 

Lexa's voice is tight, and Clarke realizes that she's nervous. The question is not asked accusingly, and it dawns on Clarke that Lexa is almost  _expecting_ Clarke to run out of the tent this very moment and back to the open gates of Arkadia. _As if I could leave you._  

 

Clarke looks down. “It’s not my choice. I have done what I can and… now they need to do what they can to make this right.”

 

Lexa' gaze is calculated, as if analyzing her for the truth. Her voice is careful as she asks: “And you believe that they can make this right?”

 

"Yes." Clarke steps in, holding those brilliant emerald eyes in place. "Not everyone in there agrees with Pike. Some just like the idea of having power, others are just scared that he'll kill them off for being on the 'wrong side.'" 

 

"Perhaps your people should be more afraid of themselves." Lexa says quietly.

 

"We shouldn't be afraid at all." Clarke counters. "Not when we can be living in peace. Not when we-" It catches in her throat, but Lexa understands her anyways.  _Not when we can finally have a chance._

 

"Do you believe that your people deserve to spared, Clarke?" 

 

Clarke picks up her gaze and stares directly at her.

 

“Of course, Lexa. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

 

At this, Lexa’s shoulders drop and with them drops the Commander’s mask. The walls tumble down, down, down and Lexa's face contorts. Clarke doesn't hesitate and immediately steps forward so that she can cup Lexa’s face in her palms. 

 

“Hey." She tilts Lexa's chin up to meet her gaze and her eyes are glassy and unfocused. "I know that there is nothing I can do to stop this war. You've made your decision, Lexa." Her thumb traces circles on Lexa's cheeks. "But I meant everything I said last night.” She says lowly. “That wasn’t just the flower talking, it was me.”

 

Lexa let’s out a shuddering breath. “Clarke I-”

 

She struggles and Clarke saves her the effort by leaning up and pressing their lips together. As soon as they touch, Lexa melts into her, fingers scrambling to find a hold on her hips. The kiss is so so gentle and it makes her heart ache in her chest. She weaves her fingers through Lexa’s hair and sighs. Forget about the war, if they died right here right now, she wouldn't mind a single bit. Lexa's lips are warm and soft against hers, holding a caress that makes her head spin and her heart beat wildly. She pulls back reluctantly and Lexa is staring at her.

 

“I love you.” She rasps out and Clarke can do little more than pull her back and hope. Hope that Pike could see reason, hope that the war didn’t destroy them, and hope that the feelings they have right now would keep them alive for an eternity. 

**Author's Note:**

> leave me some comments :)


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